


So Hard to Breathe

by Everinty



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Complications, F/F, Friendship, Frisk has their own special brand of sign language, Genderless Frisk, Gun Violence, Hate Crimes, Hospitals, Major Character Injury, Mute Frisk (Undertale), Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Paralysis, Poisoning, Poor Sans (Undertale), Sans is the only one who can understand them fluently, Sign Language, Speaking in public, Translator Sans
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-25
Updated: 2019-06-30
Packaged: 2019-10-15 23:43:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,183
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17538584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Everinty/pseuds/Everinty
Summary: Humans were...Well. Most of them were okay. Sure, the monsters suspected it would take some time for humanity to adjust to their presence. Sure, they knew there would always be those who opposed there very existence, but they had taken precautions to prevent such feelings from getting out of hand.Or...so they had thought.





	1. Stand By You

**Author's Note:**

> This story starts out pretty mild, but take note that it's going to live up to the 'Mature' rating I gave it. Might even go higher. We'll see.

Humans were an enigma. 

They were difficult to predict, difficult to understand, and difficult, on any given day, to get along with if they had no desire to get along with you. They were mysterious beings, not a trace of magic in them, and yet so strong it would have taken the combined power of every monster soul, and still it wouldn't be enough, to meet the strength and intensity of a single human soul. Their soul traits were wild, passionate things; colored representations of their personalities and the culmination of their very essence. Their bodies, and in some theories their souls, persisted after death, instead of turning to ashen dust. They were puzzling; meaty things with hair and bones, and skin, none of which was made possible with magic. It was amazing.

Most humans were okay. Many were kind, smart, funny; they could even be brave. They had lived in a world all their lives that was blessed with sunshine and green grass, never truly realizing that what they had was everything monsters wanted so, so badly. What they craved for.

Some where starting to understand. Some had come to the realization that racism, or species-ism, was wrong. That, human or no, monsters were just as much a sentient being as any of them could fathom. No lines need be drawn. No division. Peace was possible. Peace was achievable. Peace was both affordable and desirable, for both sides. With every passing day, more and more humans came to that realization and joined the ever growing number of those who _cared_.

It was...very encouraging.

Naturally, there were also just as many people who sat stubborn in their ways; glowering gazes that leered from every dark corner of the globe, eyes and minds filled with hatred and ill intent. But monsters had taken precautions against people like those. And the humans who sided with monsters also took precautions.

Which was one of the only reasons Asgore and Toriel had deemed it safe to move forward with the West River conference.

West River was a small suburban town just west of Ebott's towering city. It had a mildly impressive population, human mostly but with a few monsters, and the conference had been planned several weeks in advance. The townspeople were known for their monster-acceptance, and were actually pretty excited about being the host for such an event. Frisk, the child ambassador for all monster-kind, would deliver a speech on their firm beliefs in the successful integration of monsters into human society. The event was to be televised all over the country, important officials flying in from as far as London to be a guest and experience the almost magical aura that had permeated Ebott and the surrounding towns since the Barrier's fall. 

Needless to say, everyone was very excited.

And nervous.

Frisk waited in a special waiting room, sitting and fidgeting roughly with their fingers in their lap. The room, at least at the moment, was empty, her monster friends all off getting everything ready for their speech. Metaphorical butterflies fluttered in Frisk's stomach, making her feel nauseous and jittery. This wasn't the first time they had 'spoken' in front of a large group of people. In fact, counting this time, they had spoken in conference a grand total of five times since monster's freedom eleven months ago. Despite that being true, it never got any easier. There would be all those hopeful, eager faces, staring at them with wide eyes and Mettaton's borrowed stage lamps too bright and hot in their face. Not to mention the added pressure of being on television, broadcasted all over the country.

Frisk twisted their fingers a little more harshly, trying to get a hold of themselves. Things would be fine. They always turned out fine; everyone always adored them. They were only twelve, a mere child in most peoples' eyes, and who wouldn't like a child? No one. So relax. Relax and stay calm.

_ZZVWIP!_

The usually familiar sound of displaced space startled Frisk right out of their chair; their hair nearly standing on end as they gasped. They were greeted by the calm, collected form of their best friend, the skeleton standing with his hands lazily in his pockets and a look of apology on his face.

Frisk frowned reprovingly. Raising their hands, they signed in their own peculiar way, chiding him.  ** _Sans! You startled me!_**

Sans gave a dull chuckle, one hand slipping out of his pocket and moving to rub the back base of his skull. "uh, heh, sorry, kiddo. didn't realize you were so jumpy."

**I'm not jumpy** **,** Frisk argued.

"sure, sure. an' i'm not a skeleton."

Frisk pouted and Sans laughed a bit more genuinely. He took up a seat on the bench Frisk had previously occupied, patting the wood beside him. "eh, come on. sit down and take a load off before you drop."

Frisk reluctantly did so, sitting down before giving in and nestling into the skeleton's side.  **I'm not jumpy,** they signed again, then gave a long pause.  **But I...might be a little scared.**

Sans pulled them a little closer to his side, soothing a hand up and down the child's spine. "scared, huh? that's okay. me too."

The child sat up straighter, pulling away enough to look Sans in the face before signing an incredulous,  _ **You?!**_  

The skeleton laughed again. "don't act so surprised. you think i like walking out there in front of all those people any more than you do? pretty sure i had a bad dream about that once. dreamed i gave a comedy sketch at MTT's and forgot my shorts, or something equally devastating."

Frisk giggled at the thought.

"my point is, we all get scared from time to time. me, pap, your mom, ol' fluffybuns, alphys-"

**Undyne?**

"er...well, i imagine she's scared of something. losing alphys maybe. yeah, that'd get her pretty bad, i think." The captain and the stuttering royal scientist had been dating since that first day they'd walked out into the sunlight. From Sans's understanding, their relationship was growing stronger with every passing day. Then again, they same could be said for all of them. He and Papyrus had grown closer, Sans learning to be a bit more honest when things weighed on his mind. He hadn't spilled the beans about the resets, but Frisk had promised not to skip time backward ever again, and Sans believed them. That assurance helped him grow as a monster, without the constant fear of his life being swept out from under his feet.

Toriel was happy raising Frisk. Asgore had been doing just fine as Ambassador Frisk's representative/king/dad combo, and though he and Toriel were only just barely on speaking terms, Sans suspected time would heal old wounds to healing scars. Alphys was still the royal scientist, despite her having come forward to tell Toriel and Asgore about the amalgamates, for which Sans was extremely proud of her for. Mettaton had stationed up in Ebott with his own private tv show and company, whose 'kind' assistance was being lent to them for this conference. Sans suspected the pink tin can had some kind of angle in the matter, but he honestly didn't care. As long as things got done, and Frisk was happy, he was willing to deal with anybody's attitude or personality.

**Yeah. I think that would scare her a lot** **,** Frisk replied, pulling Sans from his musings. 

"yup. we all got something that sets us on edge." He leaned back, stretching out his stiff spine. "you wanna practice anything? some of the officials names and such? i think i've got them down pat, but i'm all for giving it a few more rounds if it will help you feel more prepared."

Frisk nodded immediately.

"alright, kiddo. test my skills in frisk-an-nese."

Frisk giggled again, but did as they were told. They turned to face Sans better, one hand moving up to shelve a finger horizontally against their brow, using the other hand to tap their black pants. Sans's translation was immediate.

"mayor brinstien," he practically chirped. "dude with the majorly swag, black uni-brow."

Frisk snorted.  **Don't call him that onstage,** they insisted with a smirk.

"wouldn't dream of it, okay, next?"

Frisk performed yet another gestured combo, Sans yet again responding almost before they were finished with the motions.

"hannah cartdridge."

**You're good at this.**

"i've had plenty of practice."

It really was a interesting, if not necessary, set up. Frisk, mute as they were, had always talked through a complicated language of signing. Most of the other monsters had grown used to the various gestures and their meaning, but Sans was completely fluent. The skeleton internally blamed the resets for that ability, though outwardly, to answer the others' questioning glances, he said he was just a really fast learner. Which, in all honesty, was also true.

The funny thing was, when they arrived on the surface, it had quickly become apparent that Frisk did not sign using any of the set standards that existed in the world. It was their own brand, one formed through years of practice, and hundreds, if not thousands, of resets to experiment. It was actually pretty cool, but with one very big draw back.

No human could understand them.

That was why, months ago, when Frisk had first been asked to start their series of conferences, Sans had volunteered to translate for them onstage. He was the best choice, knowing the child and their manner of communication best. Toriel had loved the idea, and everyone else had quickly supported that the two team up. Names were the only thing Sans had to work at memorizing, since for every new person Frisk met and had to sign by name, they would have to come up with a sign to indicate that particular person. Sans was always helpful in thinking up cool or funny ways to keep people straight in both his and Frisk's minds.

Frisk produced yet another flurry of motions.

"edison barks."

Another.

"berry frecks."

One more.

"ambassador grumpy-pants." Sans chuckled at the glare he received. He rolled his eye lights in false annoyance. "alright, alright. ambassador rhennals."

**Good.**

"you feel a little better now?"

**Yes. Thank you, Sans.**

Sans smiled at the child's use of his name's sign. With one hand they traced a wide grin on their face, and with the other they tapped two fingers over their heart. He had had a different sign once, closer to an actual spelling of his name, but since coming to the surface, Frisk had changed it. The sign was a gesture they had started to use whenever Sans smiled genuinely, as a means of encouraging that behavior, and, as his happiness had become less rare, the sign had just sort of stuck.

"you're welcome, kid."

There was a slam of a door and a set of familiar, heavy footfalls before Undyne stuck her head in the room, smile a variable mouthy fortress of sharp, pointy teeth. "Sup neeeeerds!" she greeted, loud and as obnoxious as she usually was. They wouldn't have her any other way.

**Hello!**

"heya."

"Hey, you goobers ready?" Undyne asked, stomping further into the room. "Everything's all set up and ready to go! Just waiting on you, punk!" She took a friendly swing at Frisk, the child dodging it easily. "You ready or not?!"

**I'm...** They looked to Sans, the skeleton nodding encouragingly. They refaced Undyne.  **I'm ready.**

"they said their ready," Sans translated, only to be treated to a classic Undyne glare.

"I can _tell_ their ready, Sans, jeez. I'm not completely incapable of understanding them."

"sorry, sorry. force of habit." Sans held his hand out, offering it to the child. "let's go get 'em, frisk."

Feeling more confident than before, Frisk reached out and took her friend's hand. Together, with Undyne towering behind them, they started the short journey through the town hall, toward the auditorium wherein waited over three hundred people.

 


	2. Take A Shot

"-it's because of what we _have_ that we need to fight for what we _can_ have. monsters aren't beings to simply be tossed aside. they feel. they think. they exist and understand the world around them the way we do. they're kind, and smart, and filled with more hope, compassion, and love than most humans can give or take, or understand. yes, they're different. yes, they might be strange to you, or scary even. their ways are unique and unknown to us. but if they didn't harm me, a child in their own lands, of a race that they remembered as powerful and merciless, then what harm can they possibly mean to a world that outnumbers them a hundred to one?"

Sans took a breath, his voice feeling thin and wavering as he tried not to think about how close or far away he was standing from the microphone. Its stand was at its lowest setting, and still he had to sort of rock up on his toes to feel like he was really speaking into it. He could hear his voice resounding off the walls of the auditorium, carrying far further, and far louder, than he would ever be inclined to speak on his own. Especially in front of so many. It felt strange, foreign, and perhaps even a little unnerving; but he solved that uneasiness in his soul by doggedly keeping his focus solely on Frisk.

The kid was a natural at public communication. Even if they couldn't technically _speak_ , the ease with which they strung sentences together in smooth, ceaseless motions was awe-worthy. They kept their gaze fixed on their audience, a calm smile and even expression, the kind you can't help but love and trust, spread across their face. They were mindful too, of when Sans needed a moment to catch his breath, regain his sense of mental balance. He wasn't even fully aware of what he was saying at this point, focused so completely on translating things correctly and coherently. Whatever was coming out of his mouth, it had the sea of faces stretching out before him positively captivated. Wide eyes and interested expressions greeted him when he chanced a quick glance, before his eye lights returned to Frisk.

The kid gave him an encouraging smile, one that gently set aside once more any uncomfortable-ness about being out in the open like this caused him. Then they shifted their gaze back to the crowd, their hands resuming their babble. Sans took a quick breath and continued.

"maybe, if we just set our minds to it, we can resolve the differences that are so hard to see past. maybe, with a little of our own compassion and love, we can rebuild bridges our ancestors burned away. a deed was done against these creatures; a deed that can never be fully repaid. but we can start by giving them that which they were denied. freedom. a life on the surface. a future. come together, so that we may all have that future, without pain or regret. brush aside bitterness and strife, and work for peace."

Dramatic pause.

"peace is really all we want. monsters and humans alike."

Frisk dropped their hands down and swung them behind their back, signaling that they were finished. The crowd burst into generous applause, people standing to their feet, the sound of hands clapping thunderous and all aimed toward one small child and her bony interpreter. Sans could make out tears in the eyes of the closer humans, the words spoken by Frisk, through him, having made an emotional impression. Frisk stood there like an angel, hands behind their back and looking far older and more mature than any kid that age should. Then again, that was why they made such a great ambassador. No one wanted to listen to a kid who would write a peace treaty in crayon. They knew what they were talking about. They knew what they wanted, what they all wanted, and how to get it. They had experience with making peace where none should be possible, and if anyone was going to make this happen, it was them.

Sans felt his soul swell with pride as he smiled at the kid, and they turned and smiled back, looking pleased and equally prideful. An 'I knew you could do it' passed silently between the two of them, warming them heart and soul. Sans shook his head with a smirk, his hands automatically finding his pockets and sinking in. He considered joining the applause, expressing himself the way the humans did, but he felt it was too general an action, something lesser than what he could give the child that might be worth more. A hug was probably out of the question, at least while still onstage. A fist bump might do. Or he would just wait until they were out of sight of the media and prying eyes before letting his excitement and joy show. That would probably be the best way to go. 

Out of the corner of Sans's eye, he could make out the shadowed shapes of the rest of their troop; Toriel, Undyne, Alphys, Papyrus, and even Asgore. All of them cheering and clapping just as loudly, if not more so, than the audience for the _both_ of them. This gathering was a success, there was no doubt about that. These people, these humans, they truly felt empowered by Frisk's words. It was inspiring. It was encouraging. It wiped away images of the more negative aspects of their cause. The way some humans spit at their heels as they walked down the street. The unkind messages sometimes left on their van windshield when they went out shopping. Days like those could be tough, sucking away at what hope for a future they had, but it was times like this that things felt truly blessed.

A future _was_ possible.

Sans grinned, shoving his hands a little further into his pockets. Sauntering, in his usual manner, he began to close the distance between him and the kid, fulling planning on walking off stage with them, rejoining the others, and then hopefully heading over to the refreshment tent outside. He had only made it three steps when something loud and ominous shattered above the cacophony of everything else.

**_BANG_ **

Monsters may have been trapped underground for centuries, but they were far from primitive or completely cut off from the world above. There had been that one human that had fallen, a weapon in hand, though it had never been rightfully used. At the dump, Papyrus had found human movies from the surface, ones that Sans had stopped and thrown out not ten minutes into the film, because they were too violent and disturbing for him and his brother's tastes. Alphys had anime that showed gang wars, or animated series where wars were depicted, worlds without magic but overabundant in the art of mechanized warfare. It all added up to one important fact:

Sans knew the sound of a gun when he heard one.

There wasn't time to carry out his first instinct; to throw himself in front of Frisk. To protect. To shield. They were too far apart, a good ten or twelve paces, and even teleporting would have taken too long. Bullets moved too fast for the eyes to follow; too fast to be caught with magic in midair, slow and stop. Disarmed.

As though in slow motion, Sans could see Frisk's face pale. They were looking at him, eyes wide and mouth open in what seemed to be a silent scream. Or, at least, he thought it would be silent, wouldn't it? Because...because they were mute. But then, the whole auditorium had gone quiet. The audience that had been cheering before were all at once soundless, and yet in his peripheral he could see the utter chaos the auditorium had become. Men and women climbed over themselves in utter panic, trampling each other to escape the hall and leave their seats and the perceived threat behind. With all that pushing and shoving...there _should_ be voices. There _should_ be shouting and screaming and outrage, but all Sans could hear was a ringing in his skull, a strange, high pitched sound that mixed in oddly with the uneven pulse of his soul in his chest. Something hurt, down by his pelvis, near what most humans would consider a hip. It was a sharp kind of pain, but even then it was an oddly dulled and distant pain. Like it was someone else's rather than his own.

He looked up at Frisk in confusion...Why was he...Why was he looking up? he was taller then them, by a good four inches. He was...Frisk was crying. They were hurt, weren't they? They'd been shot...They were kneeling beside him - When had he fallen to his knees? Why did he...Why did he feel like...?

The pain became a little sharper, finally prompting Sans to dizzily looked down at his body, which felt frustratingly uncooperative. Detached. Numb.

His white shirt, down by his hip...was covered in red...

ThAt wAsN't RiGhT.

"h-he-hel-p..."

* * *

Frisk had felt so fulfilled and happy just a moment ago. Everything had felt good, and right, and happy. The speech had gone well, the audience was touched and applauding...

And then everything had changed.

The gunshot was loud enough to hurt Frisk's ears, then again, they'd always had sensitive hearing. They had flinched, eyes slamming shut, fully expecting a racing, fiery pain to pierce their small body............but it never came. Their breathing stuttered, wincing as their muscles relaxed cautiously. There was a single beat of silence, tense and horrible frightening, and then the auditorium fell headlong into chaos.A woman screamed, shrill and horrified. Hundreds followed as each and every seat in the hall was abandoned, a wave of terrified humanity racing toward the exits, desperate and unthinking in their hysteria. Frisk could only hope the monsters among them would not be harmed in the stampede.

Frisk turned, hand already outstretched to take Sans's hand, get him and themselves to safety, but the moment they turned they could tell something was wrong. Sans was staggering toward them, an expression of confusion and alarm blatantly clear on his face. He had a hand outstretched toward them, his reaching fingers shaking under some hidden strain. Their eyes met, for a moment, and in that split eternity, Frisk realized the horrible truth.

They had never been the target.

Sans had been.

"Frisk! Frisk, My Child!"

"Sans!"

Toriel was racing toward them, Undyne and the others at her heels, Papyrus looking nearly as frantic as the queen, but Frisk only had eyes for Sans. They lurched forward, hurrying to catch the skeleton as he glanced down at his red-splattered hip, the reaching, shaking hand changing direction to hover uncertainly over the afflicting wound, and then he collapsed. Frisk managed to catch him, stumbling under his weight, and the two of them fell harshly to their knees. Sans grunted in pain, an odd, confused little noise, like he still hadn't made the connection between his failing consciousness and the injury in his side. His eyes stared up into Frisk's; questioning; frightened. They had never wanted to speak any more strongly than in that moment. To tell Sans everything was alright, and wipe away his uncertainty and fear. They couldn't even sign - not that he would understand it as he was now. Their hand was slippery with red not-blood, because monsters didn't bleed and it was impossible but he was and-

Undyne's rough, strong hands swept Frisk up of the floor. It was so sudden and all at once so grounding that Frisk nearly kicked her, wanting to stay at Sans's side. But Papyrus was already scooping up the other, Toriel at his side, her hands already aglow with healing magic, pressing into Sans's side.

The small skeleton cried out.

Then they were all racing for cover. The floorboards of the stage thumped loudly beneath the feet of monsters in a fleeing, and yet organized panic. Frisk clung to Undyne's arms, hair falling in their eyes, but still they kept their gaze on Sans. He looked barely conscious, his trembling hands trying to weakly push Toriel's own away from his hip, understanding only that she was hurting him more and him wanting it to stop. Papyrus was crying, shaking nearly as hard as Sans was himself.

They were all thinking the same, horrible, unthinkable thought. That Sans, a 1 HP monster, could never survive a hit so devastating. He should already have turned to dust, but he hadn't; though that didn't mean he was safe from doing so any minute. Toriel's eyes held a note of wild desperation as she ignored those little hands, trying to press her away, and pressed down harder, forcing healing magic through the smaller's body. Sans choked out another cry as their group joined up with some of Undyne's guards, the captain roughly ordering a barricade of sorts, everyone working together to create a safe place, in case the shooter was still in the area. Frisk knew they weren't. The villain had delivered his message loud and clear. A racial extremist, no doubt, someone who wanted to silence Frisk's movement. They could have done so by simply killing them, but no. Killing a child was not their focus, merely getting them to stop their monster-human talks of peace. Frisk was mute, Sans was their voice.

Their voice had been silenced.

The room backstage, the one Frisk and Sans had chatted in only a half hour before, was now a fortified bunker. Undyne had set Frisk down, yelling out orders to her guards to watch each and every entrance and exit. Papyrus and Toriel had laid Sans out on the now cleared coffee table, Alphys hovering at their side, a scanner of some type in hand.

"H-He isn't d-dusting!" She sounded confused. "I-I need to see the w-wound. Hold h-him still!"

Frisk could only watch in stunned silence as the adults proceeded to force the skeleton's limbs down to his sides, Toriel still pouring in magic while Papyrus held Sans's arms and Asgore, looking grim and concerned, held his legs. Undyne jumped forward, the room now secured, and together they worked the red-stained shirt out of the way, hiking it up over Sans's heaving rib cage.

"Shit!" Undyne bulked at the horrifying damage. Sans's hip was a mottled mess of shattered bone and red, sticky fluid. The substance oozed into the cracks of damaged calcium, accentuating them like crimson veins. Sans's spine arched agonizingly when Alphys moved to inspects it, a shaking finher tracing around the injury. The leg of that side kept twitching painfully with an apparently uncontrollable spasm, aggravating the wound further. 

"Th-This should h-have killed h-him instantly..." Alphys murmured in disbelief. Her scanner beeped and spit informative clicks as she hovered it over Sans's hip, the scientist frowning worriedly. "S-Something's not right..." She trailed off, immersing herself in her task.

"Where's the bullet?" Undyne hissed, her arms occupied with trying to keep Sans's spin and ribs pressed firmly to the table as Alphys examined him. "Shouldn't there be, like, a hole somewhere? Entering and exiting?"

She was right. The more they all stared down at the terrible injury, the monsters as they administered to their friend and Frisk from their petrified stance by the door, the more it became apparent that the wound didn't match the weapon used to create it. 

Sans whimpered, his head tilting back as his body gave a great shudder. Papyrus whimpered right along with him, soothing a hand over his brother's skull and whispering frantic, weak encouragement. Frisk doubted Sans could hear it. He was in so much pain.

"Why would anyone do this?" Toriel hissed, tears of her own in her eyes.

Undyne growled. "Sans is Frisk's translator. He's the one that delivers their speeches. It's a warning, to stop trying to create peace between monsters and humans. By silencing Sans, they've silenced Frisk."

"h-h-hel-p- _ghn!_ " 

They all jolted at the unexpected plea, all their gazes snapping to their patient's face. Sans's sockets were wide, a clear emotion of horror mixing in with the excruciating pain. He was tugging at his arms, trying to free them from Papyrus's trembling grip.

"a-alph-ys-!"

"Shh, brother, please," Papyrus hushed. "We are trying to help you. We-"

"n-no- _ghn!_ h-hur-ts! s-syste-system- _mnh!_ "

Alphys' head had snapped up the minute her name had been uttered, her expression one of intense concentration and attentiveness. She scrambled forward, trying to get a look into the skeleton's grimacing face. "L-Let him t-talk! Sans! S-Sans, where is the p-pain? What a-about your s-system?"

Papyrus shifted his hold on his brother's arms, but Sans managed to tug free, his hands scrabbling against the the fabric of Alphys dress as he latched on, smearing it red with his soiled hand.

"e-ev-evry-everyw-where-h-hurt-ts! a-alph-" His words strangled into a gasp and a groan.

Alphys pried his red stained hand from her dress, holding it with her own, trying to keep him conscious enough to tell her what she feared he'd say. Sans, like herself, was a scientist of sorts. He was smart, and she believed, even pained and semi-conscious as he was, his input might still be useful. Her scanners told her the unimaginable, she couldn't just take it as fact without question. She needed a second opinion, and the only one capable of doing so was squirming beneath his friend's combined restraints. "Sans, I know i-it hurts, but w-what did you mean a-about you're s-system. Y-Your m-magic flow, h-how is it feeling?"

Sans shuddered again, his slick fingers tightening in Alphys own. For a moment, clarity broke through the fog of confusion and fear in his eyes, those little white eye lights focusing on her face.

"b-burns...f-fire, a-alph, t-take-h-hnn MFS s-scan-"

"I-I did, Sans. I-I took the MFS scan, it says-" She swallowed, her gaze rising to Papyrus's, then Toriel's, then all the others, finally coming to rest on Frisk. "Th-there's something f-foreign raging through h-his marrow system, i-it's-he's-"

"Alphys?" Papyrus sounded scared.

The scientist closed her eyes, her hand tightening around Sans's hand. "W-Whatever that person shot h-him w-with, it w-wasn't an o-ordinary bullet."

Undyne's voice spoke up, strained and gruff with concern. "...What was it, then?"

Alphys shook her head, overcome with emotion. "A-An administering vial c-capsal."

"A _what?!_ "

"A b-bullet like w-weapon that administers a s-substance into a v-victim's b-body. U-usually c-causing critical injury, b-but a-also-"

Papyrus whimpered. "English, doctor Alphys, please."

The scientist flinched, wincing and she forced the words out. "B-But also introducing a f-foreign agent t-to the victim's s-system." She paused, swallowing again, even as her throat went dry. "E-Essentially...S-Sans has been b-both sh-shot........ and p-poisoned."

Frisk felt their world shatter.

 


	3. Shadows

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, so, I have no excuse of absence. :p But I'm back now. Can't say I'll be able to post super regularly, but this story isn't over, so it'll get done eventually. Thank you for being patient.

Sans had lost consciousness at some point. At least...he thought he must have? You had to be asleep before you could wake up, right? And Sans was pretty certain that the aching existence he was slowly sliding toward was wakefulness. The merciful darkness he had been surrounded by for...who knew long, was melting away, and with that new shift in awareness a lot of less pleasant feelings were rising. There was pain, numb, but there. His whole body felt as though it were tingling with a dull fire, but the feeling was most centralized in his side, down near the edge of his pelvis. It stirred something in his memory, something sharp and tinged with fear, but he couldn't quite bring it into focus. He was so tired...

Something was beeping.

It was was severely annoying.

_Beep...._

_Beep..._

_Beep..._

_Beep.._

The irritating sounds was more or less was roused him the rest of the way to consciousness. Lids fluttering weakly, Sans finally managed to open his eyes, only to wince and slam them shut again. His head hurt, maybe even more than the throbbing in his side, and the sudden brightness had shot agony clear through his brain. His fingers curled into the surface below him, scrambling for purchase, his breath hitching up tight before he released it in a shudder. He must have made some sort of sound along with it because, the next thing he knew, someone was encasing his left hand gently in their own. It was a cold touch, almost frigid compared the the burning heat of his own bones. Sans dimly came to the realization that he was feeling massively overheated.

"...Brother?"

That sounded an awful lot like Papyrus.

God, Sans hoped it was Papyrus.

Sans attempted to speak, his brother's name already forming and ready to be heard, but nothing came out, only a tight whine between his teeth. Sans clenched his eyes tighter, trying to work through the strange numbness. Finally, after a good deal of swallowing and careful breathing, Sans managed a pitiful, "b-bro?"

"Yes, Sans. I'm here." A small sob, the kind that comes with immense relief. "I...I'm so glad you're awake."

"n-nh." Sans still couldn't open his eyes. The world, even then, felt as though it were rocking from side to side, spinning dizzily. An invisible force tugged and pushed against his being, adding to the sensation, as though Sans had spend too much time at the ocean and his mind could still sense the rise and fall of the waves. It was making him nauseous. "i-i....h-hm'not f-feeling...too g-good."

There was the soft sound of fabric, as though Papyrus were leaning closer. The hand holding Sans's own was joined by one gently brushing against his forehead. "Are you in any pain?"

"...c-can't really....t-tell?" Talking was hard. Draining. "feel like'm hurt'n s-somewhere...but all f-feels sorta...h-hazy."

"I see. Well, that at least means that the medications are doing their job." Papyrus paused, so long that Sans missed the sound of his voice and thought he had been left to suffer alone. But his brother would never do that. Finally, Papyrus asked, "Brother, can you...open your eyes?"

"don' wan'...t-to."

"Why not?"

"h-hurts," Sans slurred. "the s-sun, hurts m-my...eyes."

"Oh." There was an edge of embarrassment to Papyrus's voice, the kind Sans had always tried to avoid. "How silly of me. You've been asleep for a while now. Of course the brightness would bother you."

Sans heard Papyrus stand from his bedside and walk a short distance away, before there was the swish of cheap plastic blinds being shut and that unpleasant light diminished to a blessed, soothing dark. Sans instantly felt his body relax, going limp into the rather hard mattress beneath him.

"There, that should make things better," Papyrus hummed, proud of his work, before his voice lowered again in concern. "Can you try opening your eyes now, Sans? I just want to...see you." He said it with such desperate hope that Sans honestly couldn't refuse him. Sans had never been able to refuse Papyrus anything in his life.

Bracing himself for more pain, Sans took a deep breath and slowly allowed his eyelids to raise. Oh yeah. He had a headache, that much was certain, but without the bright light blinding him it was manageable. He blinked once or twice, to try and clear the watery blur from his vision, before looking up to see Papyrus for the first time since Sans's waking.

Pap looked...tired. The sort of tired that comes with too many sleepless nights and a whole lot of worrying and pacing. His appearance was almost haggard, and Sans could only imagine how he himself much look. Sans didn't feel at all rested, but Papyrus...Papyrus looked just about as bad as Sans felt.

Papyrus grinned in relief the minute their gazes met. "There you are," he smiled. "That's the Sans I know. There he is."

Sans chuckled. "what am i, f-five? you don't have t-to coo over me, bro."

"Perhaps not. But I think I am privileged a little bit of cooing regardless." His expression became slightly haunted. "Considering..." He shook his head, snapping his face back into a grin. "Anyway. I am glad to see you awake and less limp. You really had me worried there...for a while."

"sorry."

"There is no need to be sorry. You...couldn't help it."

Sans couldn't quite remember why he couldn't help it, but he was really too exhausted to try. Instead he settled on staring at his surroundings, trying to piece together where he was. "am i in a...h-hospital?"

Papyrus grimaced. "Um...yes?" He was quick to explain. "One of the nearest human hospitals really, though we're not on the main section. We're more off to the side. In the recovery area."

"the recovery area?" Sans repeated. Somehow he couldn't help but think he was forgetting something. Something really, really important. "why am i in-"

"S-Sans! You're awake!"

Both skeleton brothers looked up at the high, stuttering voice. Alphys stood at the door of the recovery room, her hands held to her face and tears of relief brimming under her glasses. She ran forward, murmuring things Sans couldn't understand, but which sounded like little breaths and prayer of thanks and apologies. She smiled at him, a hope in her expression that Sans couldn't say he shared. At the moment, he felt lost and confused, two things he had never been particularly fond of.

"A-Are you in any p-pain?" Alphys asked, out of breath and gushing. "B-Because if you are I can always a-administer another d-dose of pain medication to help ease your-"

"whoa, whoa, whoa," Sans smiled weakly. "easy there, alphys, or you're gonna...strain s-something. i'm...i'm alright...just a l-little tired. and...confused?"

Alphys nodded distractedly as she reached forward to carefully start running her fingers over his arms and shoulders. It was a touch he wasn't quite ready for, so he flinched a little. Alphys apologized, but continued. 

"Th-That's to be expected. C-Confusion is only n-natural after being unconscious for l-long lengths of time."

Long lengths of time?!

Sans attempted to sit up, but Alphys, being a little more assertive than usual, carefully pushed him back down against the stiff hospital mattress.

"Stay d-down and relax. Let me d-do my job."

So he did.

Alphys began checking him over, her cold, scaled hands brushing up against his heated bones. It felt nice, to be honest, like a cool, wet cloth on a fevered brow, but Sans was too mortified and embarrassed to truly enjoy the sensation. Alphys, for once, didn't seem uncomfortable with their closeness. Maybe she was just so desperate to make sure he was okay she wasn't even noticing how her wrists and meaty arms rested right over his spine and chest as she worked.

To distract himself, Sans blearily looked up at her and slurred, "how long've i b-been...asleep?"

"Y-You mean unconscious," Alphys returned. She paused, thinking it over. "It's been almost a w-week since the incident at the th-theater." Her eyes widened, like she had slipped up on something she shouldn't have. A half-second later, Sans knew why.

Sans's head did that weird thing where his mind just sort of checked out, what he had for ears ringing as time seemed to slow. A week? He had been unconscious for almost an entire week? How was that even- And then the details of the 'incident' came flooding back. He remembered the stage, Frisk's speech, the panic, the fear, the protectiveness, the burning agony...Everything. It filled his thoughts to the brim, stealing his breath and tensing his body. Vaguely he could hear Alphys and Papyrus trying to sooth him, but they sounded about a mile and a half away. There was only shock, fear, and a sinking feeling of dread deep in his chest.

"w-what happened?" he gasped out. "t-to me, what h-happened?"

Alphys sighed, sounding a little less like he was hearing her from under water. She gazed down at him with worry and sadness, but it was Papyrus who ended up answering Sans in the end.

"You were...shot, brother. In the hip. It was...quite bad. You were in a very great deal of pain. Alphys found out the bullet used was of a...special sort. It was poisoned, much like the arrows of old."

Sans shook his head weakly in disbelief. "h-how-?"

"It injected you wh-when it slammed into you," Alphys explained. "It...was m-made of a kind of...s-synthetic gel? Your m-magic absorbed it instantly into y-your system." She shoulders shook a little. "We...W-We almost lost you."

"but m-my...my hp," Sans murmured. "how could i...how did i survive being shot a-and poisoned."

Papyrus beamed, sending Alphys a glance full of awe and gratitude. "It was Doctor Alphys. She worked very quickly, and was able to get you somewhere to flush the poison from your body before it could...kill you."

Sans felt overwhelmed. "the others? f-frisk?"

"Everyone is just fine," Papyrus assured. "You were the only one that the foul villain seemed interested in hurting. Asgore is working on closing up business in this city, so he is well guarded and safe. Toriel and Frisk were here earlier today, and are now relaxing back at the hotel. No worries, it is well secured. And Undyne is currently talking to some guards down the hall."

A small relief. Sans could easily piece together why he would be a target. He was Frisk's interpreter; it didn't take a rocket scientist to conclude they had been trying to make a point. Undyne would surely have her guard up now, even more so than before. Frisk would be okay, with all of them looking out for them. While still feeling somewhat lousy, Sans was very eager to join in. He didn't like the idea of some faction out there making evil eyes at the kid. Not when he wasn't there to help guard them.

Again Sans moved to get up, and again Alphys hurried to push him back down. This time, it annoyed Sans.

"come on, alphys, let me up. i'm not that bad off. i want to help us figure this all out."

Alphys and Papyrus exchanged uncomfortable glances, and Sans instantly realized something was amiss.

"...what's wrong? what are th-those looks for?"

Papyrus swallowed, his gaze turning hurt and a little...frightened? "Brother, I am afraid we...we cannot allow you to leave that bed."

"what? why n-not?"

Alphys fidgeted. "There are, u-um...complications...to your condition."

A cold feeling of fear started creeping up Sans's spine. "...what complications?" he demanded.

"U-Um, well, I don't know if I-I should-"

"alphys. tell me."

Alphys hung her head, unable to meet his eyes. "Th-The poison r-really did a n-number on you. I'm afraid it m-messed with your system a l-lot faster than I was able t-to purge it..."

Sans felt very, very uneasy. "alphys...?"

"Y-You're paralyzed, Sans," Alphys finally finished. She looked up at him and the pain in her eyes proved this was the furthest thing from a joke. "E-Everything from y-your waist down is...is p-paralyzed."

Sans's world came crashing down around him.


End file.
